Letzte Tage
by pearchild
Summary: "It seemed in many ways the two were opposites. She was tidy, he was messy. She read books, he got into fights. She was civilized, he was feral. She was a lady. He was a hooligan. And Mikasa was most certainly intolerant of hooligans." eremika, middle school to high school AU.
1. Chapter 1

**i noticed that there were no multi-chapter highschool/middle school aus for the eremika ship, which disappointed me. so yeah, i wrote this. **

She could remember it so clear, as clear as cut glass. Mikasa was only eleven when she had first met Eren Jaeger.

It had been early August and summer vacation was in full swing. The sun rose heartily to greet everyone with its pulsing rays, bringing on a heat that only the gentle breeze could mellow. Small flowers swayed mildly in the wind, their delicate petals fluttering lightly. Mikasa sat in the park, the grass cushioning her, as she watched other children fool around, giggling helplessly. Maybe if she had been in any other frame of mind, she'd have approached them and asked to join in their games. Maybe they would have accepted too. Making friends had been effortless, second nature for Mikasa. But ever since she had moved to Shinganshina, she felt as though it was the most challenging act in the world.

Her parents had gotten jobs that required them to work arduous and excruciating long hours, so she had been shifted into the responsibility of a care-taker called Ms. Ral. She was very old, her face adorned with scars and creases, and her skin seemed to several sizes too large for her skull. Although she didn't look like it, she had been part of the military, a special ops group that only exceptionally talented people were allowed to join. Despite her age, Ms. Ral was a passionate woman, never hesitating to tell the stories from her military days. She would speak of foreign lands with names Mikasa struggled to pronounce, of binary code and binoculars, of the brink of death and the birth of life. And although many of the tales were so far-fetched that many adults couldn't bring themselves to believe a word, Mikasa found herself whole-heartedly accepting every syllable.

"When I grow up," she declared one evening. "I want to be just like you!" And Ms. Ral would smile that smile that always seemed to warm Mikasa's tummy, and offered her another raison cookie. She really enjoyed spending time with her.

Until Eren came along. Mikasa had just been sitting on the grass when she first caught sight of him, absorbed in her own thoughts. A shiver of hollow pain stabbed through her stomach. She was hungry. Not really surprising. Losing track of time was something that too often happened to her; her parents scolded her for it often. She stood up to go and ask Ms. Ral if she could have her lunch, her usual cheese sandwich wrapped in cling foil. Spotting Ms. Ral was easy enough. Despite the thin, frail body that old age had granted her, she still acquired a certain presence, one that demanded respect. Everyone felt her the authority she exuded, regardless of whether or not they knew of her military history. She was sitting on the bench, knitting a wool jumper, the image of a typical old woman. A middle-aged couple, accompanied by a young child who looked around Mikasa's age, was talking to her with blatant enthusiasm. This wasn't exactly surprising. Ms. Ral was lovely and getting along with her was easy enough. She was almost constantly socializing and speaking to others, to the point that Mikasa had a hard time getting a word in edgeways outside of the privacy of her home. She couldn't see the two adults very well as they weren't facing here. That wasn't what made Mikasa stop in her tracks though. It was the young boy that made her feel uneasy.

Even from a distance, Mikasa could tell that he didn't look like the kind of person she would want to get to know, not ever. He had brown hair, cut in a rugged choppy style that looked terrible. It looked like he'd tried cutting it himself and failed. Actually, that was probably just what happened. The denim of his jeans must have been blue once, but were now caked in crusty layer of dirt that obscured the colour completely. He had food around his mouth, which was set in a heavy scowl, and his hands were clenched into fists. Mikasa narrowed her eyes as she looked him. Ah, yes. These were the kind of people her parents had warned her about. The town hooligans, her mother called them as. They were apparently savages who had no care for anything that wasn't following their own selfish whims. They were ferocious scallywags whose presence left a plague upon wherever they went, a bitter taste in everyone's mouth. Mikasa felt offended that this boy was even in the same park as someone as lovely as Ms. Ral, let alone having the gall to standing next to her.

She only found out later that this boy, _Eren_ was his name, had started going to Ms. Ral's to be looked after too. His mother had apparently landed herself a rather flashy job, but at the expense of having little time to look after her troublesome son as she used to. With her husband already occupied in a similarly demanding job, they were forced to hire a nanny to take care of him. Ms. Ral was ideal. That day was the first time Mikasa met Eren.

And she did not like him at first sight. Nor at second, or third or fourth or fifth. She learnt very quickly by observing him that he was intense and volatile. His hotheadedness seemed to radiate off of him. She would have found it almost intimidating if it hadn't made her skin crawl. The boy was ridiculous and seemed to have no concept of self-control. This was something she learnt only within a few days of meeting him. He was constantly getting into fights with others and seemed completely reluctant in taking responsibility for his fights, always preferring to blame it on the people he was fighting.

"You should have heard it what he said! He deserved it, you know he did!" he would declare when Ms. Ral would chide him for his violence.

"Eren," she would say sternly. "If he is being rude, you either walk away or tell me and I'll sort it out with his parents. Violence is not the solution."

"Funny words for someone who used to work in the military," he'd always mumble under his breath so Ms. Ral couldn't hear him.

It wasn't just his quick-tempered nature that got on Mikasa's nerves. It seemed in many ways the two were opposites. Her hair was always combed into a neat style, not a hair out of place, whilst his was a wiry mess, one he didn't seem concerned with fixing in the least. She would spend her time reading or writing, he would play in the mud. She would listen to soft country music, he would listen to aggressive rock and roll. She was a lady. He was a hooligan. And Mikasa was most certainly intolerant of hooligans.

"Ms. Ral," she sighed one day, unable to take more of the annoying little boy. The idiot was playing jenga and had managed to break the window! How does that even happen, she questioned. How does someone play an innocuous game involving pulling little bits of wood out of a large wooden constitution and result in a window breaking? Yet more proof that he should stay away from her.

"Why does he have to be here? Things were more fun with just the two of us! That Eren is just a menace!" She ranted, nodding her head vigorously, as though encouraging Ms. Ral to agree with her. But the old woman just threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh in reply.

"He doesn't look it, but he's a sweet boy, my darling," she cooed gently. "He's a trouble magnet but he's got his heart in the right place. Give him a chance." Mikasa was unusually sceptical of Ms Ral's words. Did hooligans really deserve to be given chances?

Perhaps having Eren living under the same caretaker as her wouldn't have been so irksome to her if she had somebody to complain to about him, someone who didn't immediately insist she was being unreasonable. A friend, maybe? But whenever she saw another child at the park, she could hardly muster up the courage to talk them and just ended up angry at herself. It was true that she would start going to middle school in a little under two weeks anyway, so it didn't really matter that much if she couldn't make any friends for now. However, she still felt herself getting uneasy; what if she couldn't make any friends in middle school? Mikasa sighed, depression coursing through her.

Moving to Shinganshina had been tough for her, for her whole family also. Her parents had owned a farm, nothing too flashy. They only had a few fields of barley and potatoes, as well as two chickens and a cow. Every month, they scraped up enough crops, along with eggs and milk, to be sold at the market and lived off that money. Her father had a side job of being the History teacher at her elementary school, a fact that Mikasa had found painfully embarrassing at the time.

Things started going downhill two years ago. Farming was a precarious job. It took only one unfortunate season of bad weather to ruin all their crops. That had taken a big hit on them financially. They'd managed to recover from it admirably, but when bad weather struck yet again the next winter, that alone had practically ruined. However, what was really just the last straw that finally caused the family to move out and give up farming was when one of the big companies in the more industrial districts decided to set up a large grocery store. The prices were cheap and they had a large variety of products in stock. After that, people stopped going to the Ackermans for food. Why would they? Why buy from a local farm what you can get in a convenience store ten times cheaper?

There was a limit to how much food the Ackermans could produce. They only had so much land they could utilize. They couldn't afford to bring down their prices by a single penny. For a few weeks, they still tried to carry out farming as a living. They walked up to the Sunday market as usual and balanced their crops on the shelves, arranging them to look as appealing as possible; anything to lure in customers.

Hardly anyone came. Wherein before they were able to sell the majority of their crops by the day's end, they had only managed to sell an egg and two potatoes, the combined price of which was $10. That incident had been the final straw.

It was a dreary Wednesday morning when her parents had decided to inform Mikasa of the fact that they were moving out. Mikasa had been spooning porridge into her mouth, anxiety coiling in her stomach as she realised she forgot to do homework that was due in today. Her father walked into the kitchen, a grave expression on his face. Mikasa didn't find this at all surprising. Her parents seemed to always be looking miserable these days, constantly sighing and rubbing their foreheads with distress. _Don't do that,_ Mikasa wanted to tell them._ If you do that, you'll lose all your hair! _But she kept her mouth shut, simply observing her parents become more and more unhappy, not knowing how to offer them comfort.

Her father sat on one of the chairs heavily.

"Mikasa, your mother and I have something to tell you," he said. "We're going to move out of this house." Mikasa blinked, bored.

"Okay. Can the new house we go to be closer to the school? I'm tired of walking there everyday! It makes me so tired," she said. Her father smiled sadly at her.

"Mikasa, it takes 10 minutes for you to walk there at maximum. And no we can't move closer to the school. We're moving out of this district."

As he said that, she felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. The nearest district was at least 20 miles away.

"Out of the district?" she repeated faintly. "That means I won't be able to see my friends."

"No. No you won't. I'm sorry. There's not really another option. We can't afford to live here any more as farmers."

Mikasa wanted to kick up a tantrum. But she had known, on some subconscious level, that this was happening. Why else did her parents, who had once been so happy, look depressed all the time, and now argued constantly? Why did the food they buy suddenly taste so bad? Why didn't she have any Christmas presents this year? Why had her mother been so insistent that she turned off all the lights because "_god damn it, Mikasa, we don't have that much money for you to waste_!"? Still, she felt as though her feet were being pulled out from under her.

"When? When are we moving?"

"Two weeks." Two weeks. Not even a month. How long had her parents been hiding this from her? But she couldn't even work up any shadow of indignation. Any kind of anger was eclipsed by the heavy depression that overcame her. The only good thing about that day was the fact that her father had allowed her to stay off school, which she spent by moping around and watching boring TV.

True to his word, the family moved out in two weeks time. It was tough. Adjusting from farm life to being industrial workers had been difficult enough for her parents – it didn't help that Shinganshina was completely different from the district she used to live in. She missed her old life. She missed sitting in the bewhiskered barley fields. She missed lying by the local river, letting its chill lap gently at her small toes, which usually flushed pink as a result of the cold. She missed visiting the local pub with her parents every Friday evening. And above all, she missed her friends, missed being able to play with them everyday, missed the elaborate jokes and games they used to come up with. Back home, she had always had an abundance of friends. But here in Shinganshina, she didn't have any friends at all. She just simply couldn't find the courage to talk to anyone – everything here was so different, so intimidatingly unfamiliar. The whole district was one massive concrete maze, composed of car parks and street lamps. Every building in the area had loud and explosive graffiti, scribbled hastily in vulgar urban tongue. There was too much of everything – of people, of shops, of services and commodities. Everything seemed to be going on at once, which was reflected in the rushed pace that was suffocatingly inescapable. You couldn't walk five feet down a street without a stranger insisting you fill out their questionnaire or take a newspaper or try a sample of some ice cream brand which will probably go bust in a matter of months. In just a few weeks of living here, Mikasa could feel herself going mad.

She had tried voicing her complains to Ms. Ral, but she would probably just suggest making friends with Eren. She was desperate for friends, sure, but she still had standards, for God's sake. She'd picking no friends over having a posse of hooligans for pals. So, she went to her parents next, hoping they could offer her the kind of wisdom she needed.

"Mom, Dad," she sighed one day. "I really hate living here! I have no friends still!"

"Isn't there another boy at Ms. Ral's house? Why can't you make friends with him?" her mother suggested. Mikasa rolled her eyes.

"I can't make friends with him because he is dumb!" she declared angrily, like it was obvious. Her parents exchanged a look between them.

"Well, me and your father have been talking about it for a while, but -" her mother started. Mikasa cut her off.

"Aren't your friends from college coming over today?" For the last couple of days, her parents had been raving on about getting together with another family, who they had apparently been friends with for quite a few years – today would be something of a reunion. Mikasa found herself starkly disinterested, but could understand why they were so excited to see these friends of theirs. If Mikasa got the opportunity to meet with her old friends now, she'd be excited too – and she'd only been separated from them for a month!

"That's right. They have a small boy, your age, who I hear is very nice. He's probably coming over too. Maybe you could try making friends with him?" her mother asked hopefully. Mikasa's eyes widened.

"I would love that!" she cried, throwing her arms around her Mum, who was laughing gently. A 'very nice' boy for her to make friends with. She could hardly wait.

Apparently meeting these people was a pretty big deal because she remembered that she was sent to help with the housework for the rest of the day, trying to make their house look as impressive as possible. It was hard though. Despite having moved in a month ago, they still hadn't succeeded in properly organising their possessions; their home was covered in a cascade of slopping plastic bags, towering columns of broken cardboard boxes, their old possessions that had been so carefully organised in their old home strewn out across the floor in an incredibly undignified manner.

Whilst her mother polished the toilets and the sinks around the house, her and her father got to work on opening up the cardboard boxes and deciding what should be thrown or kept. As she slowly unpacked each box, a wave of nostalgia gently lapped at her heart. All their photos, souvenirs, gifts and memories were here. She found it hard to pick what you should thrown or kept (she wanted to keep everything), so eventually her father did the job, while she skipped about between the bins.

The whole while, she was wondering absent-mindedly what this boy would be like. Was he nice? Would he be unimpressed upon the first sight? Would he act like every boy on the cusp of adulthood is supposed to act, unenthusiastic and bad-tempered? Mikasa thought for a moment.

"Dad," Mikasa asked. "This boy who is coming over with your friends, do you know his name?"

What does he look like? What are his hobbies, his likes and dislikes? How tall is he? What's his star sign?

"Uh, no actually. I forgot to ask," her father replied, his tone of voice indicating that he was concentrating on something else. "Sorry," he added after a second.

"It's fine!" Mikasa said. "I'll find out his name when he gets here."

Despite the distinct lack of time and the load of work there was to do, her family had collectively managed to organise the entire house and clean it up until it was presentable. Seven o'clock came, bringing the night with it. And with the coming of the night, came this mysterious family, signified by a loud, hearty know at the door of the Ackerman household.

"They're here!" Mikasa hissed in a hushed whisper. She felt her stomach coil with excitement.

Her mother quickly rushed down the staircase to open the door. The family stepped in, chatting quietly. Mikasa could see a middle-aged man and women, who Mikasa could only assume were married, the Mr. and Mrs. of the family. The woman had a kind face, gently creased into a kind smile. Her dark hair was tied into a very low ponytail and she was kitted out in garments that were obviously more partial to comfort than fashion. The father had a wise and serious face. His eyes, however, had a very warm twinkle to it that assured Mikasa that he was probably pretty nice. He had a goatee and glasses that kept sliding down his hooked nose every other second. Finally, a boy followed in, probably the boy she meant to become friends with. He looked pretty similar to his Mum, aside from the more obviously masculine features. He had dark messy hair and very green eyes. The two looked at each other at the exact same time. With a wave of disappointment, Mikasa realised she already knew exactly who this boy was. On the bright side, at least she knew what his name was now.

"You again!" Mikasa hissed at Eren. Eren just frowned at her. Both sets of parents wore the same confused expression on their face.

"You know each other?" Eren's mother asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes! We both go to Ms. Ral's!" Mikasa said. Her dad scratched his head, a confused look on his face.

"I didn't know Eren went to Ms. Ral's!" her father said heartily. "I knew a boy went there but I never thought it'd be him!" Mikasa sighed. She wanted to tell her Dad to stop looking so cheerful. This was no laughing matter.

"Well," Ms. Jaeger said. "It's great that you two know each other." Mikasa frowned, but she didn't want to say anything. Eren's mum seemed nice. She didn't want to offend her by telling her that she didn't think much of her son. Although it begged the question; how did a woman like _her_ manage to raise a son like _him_?

"Mikasa, do you want to take Eren up to your room?" her Mum asked. _No _Mikasa wanted to say. _My room is a clean place for clean, civilized people! Rowdy boys don't belong in there. Especially not rowdy boys with dumb hair!_

But with Mr and Ms. Jaeger there, she couldn't really say that.

"You can bring up some sweets with you, if you want," her dad added. Mikasa grabbed two packets of sweets, toffee-flavoured popcorn and some haribos.

"Come," she told Eren. "I'll show you my room." He nodded and followed. Mikasa scrambled up the stairs, Eren behind her.

Mikasa opened the door to her room, letting Eren walking in before closing it. She still couldn't believe she was in this situation. The two stood in Mikasa's room, silence in between them. Mikasa wanted to say something but couldn't really think of a word that wouldn't offend the young boy. Come to think of it, it was best that she was in good terms with him. After all, considering the fact that their parents were close, there was a pretty high chance that they may be seeing even more of each other than they already did. If she still disliked him, it was be pretty awkward for her parents if they wanted to invited the Jaegers over again.

Whilst she was thinking this, Eren fiddled with one of her possessions, although she couldn't see exactly what it was. The thick silence stayed ever present, only interrupted later as he asked a question:

"Where did you get this?" he asked, still fingering the possession. Mikasa peered to see what it was. It was an action figurine that she had got from one of her old friends back in her old home. She hadn't really thought much of it and had considering throwing it away.

"A friend gave it to me," she shrugged, not really understanding the significance of the question. "I think he got it out of one of those kinder egg things."

"Oh," Eren mumbled, still staring at the figure. "Because this one is really rare, y'know? Me and my friend are trying to collect them. We've almost got the whole collection but we've never been able to find this guy. We must have gone through like a thousand dollars worth of kinder eggs by now." Eren looked up, making eye contact with her for the first time since they'd been in the room together.

"Oh, um, I didn't know it was that much of a big deal." Mikasa thought for a second. "You can keep it if you want. I don't really care about it too much."

"Seriously?"

"Sure. Why not." Eren smiled.

"Thanks!"

"You're welcome." Mikasa found herself feeling impressed. This was the first time she'd had a verbal exchange with him that consisted of more than just her grunting out one syllable words when he spoke to her. He wasn't so bad, actually.

"We don't really speak much at Ms. Ral's, do we?" Mikasa asked. Eren shrugged.

"I guess not."

"Should we speak more often?" Mikasa prodded.

"If you want."

"Um," Mikasa racked her head for ideas for something to say, but was continuously coming up with blanks. "So, what do you want to do? Should we watch a movie?" She moved to the piles of DVDS that rested in her shelf.

"What have you got?"

"Uh, we could watch Billy Elliot?" she suggested timidly. She'd always loved that film. It'd been one of her favourites since she was five. Eren snorted.

"Isn't it about some boy who wants to do ballet?" he sniggered. "That sounds so lame." She huffed angrily at his words.

"Have you even watched it?"

"No..."

" How can you say it's bad when you've never even watched it then? Just give it a chance," she insisted, plucking the DVD from the shelf. Eren eyed it, disdain obvious in his eyes.

"Fine," he sighed, throwing up his hands. "But after, we're watching something cooler than this."

Mikasa nodded, but didn't say anything. Truth be told, she was just happy that she was making a friend for the first time since moving here, even if it was the last person she'd expected. She offered Eren the bag of toffee-flavour popcorn, which he accepted eagerly.

It turns out that, after watching _Billy Elliot_, Eren thought it was a lot better than he'd previously imagined.

"It wasn't terrible," he said, munching on the popcorn. "Its quite good once the pace picks up but the beginning is so boring." Mikasa frowned at his words. Then she looked at the bag of toffee popcorn that she hadn't so much as touched yet.

"Eren? What the hell!" she hissed angrily.

"What?" he said, confused.

"You've eaten the whole thing!" she whined, pointing at the practically empty bag he was clutching.

"What? I-oh," he peered back down at the bag. Only a few crumbs were left.

"That's not even fair! I didn't get any at all!" Mikasa said.

"Alright, stop getting so angry," he sighed. "I'll pay you back tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. At Ms. Ral's, I'll bring you some sweets."

"I don't want sweets. I want popcorn. Specifically, toffee-flavoured popcorn."

"I'll bring that tomorrow, you don't need to get all worried." Mikasa still felt angry but dropped it. She'd get her toffee popcorn tomorrow.

For their next film, Eren had picked an action flick, just as Mikasa had expected. He chose _Con Air_. They only managed to get through the first half an hour of it, however, it was still a pretty surreal experience. Eren kept gasping at every predictable turn of events, and spoke through almost every minute of the film;

"That's so unfair, he shouldn't have to go to prison for that!"

"Crap! He just took him down! Took him down like it didn't mean squat, didn't he, Mikasa?"

However, after the first half hour, Mikasa's father staggered in. A flush coloured his cheeks and his movements seemed slow, clumsy. Probably drunk too much wine.

"Mikasa," he mumbled, his voice slurring. "It's time for Eren to go home now."

"Aw, but we were just going to watch Con Air!" Eren protested sadly. He turned to Mikasa. "I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow at Ms. Ral's?"

"Yep. I will see you then!" Mikasa felt a little sad to see him leave. They'd only spent the time watching movies, but she hadn't felt that kind of companionship that being with another kid brought in a long time.

The Jaegers left swiftly, waving goodbye as they left. Mikasa along with her parents, saw them out the door, waving back. The door to the Ackerman house clicked shut gently, and with that, the Jaegers were gone into the night. Mikasa wondered up to her room, quickly changed into her pyjamas and then, she laid in bed, going over the day's events in her head. Within a minute, she was unconscious.

**xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**sorry i took so long! **

The next day when Mikasa was dropped off at the usual time by her parents, there was someone else at Ms. Ral's house. Sitting next to Eren, talking very animatedly with him was a young boy. His eyes glowed blue, his cheeks were flushed and he had a cute stubby nose. The two had a book spread between them and were pointing at each yellow, curdled page, curiosity blazing in their eyes as they occasionally leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in the other's ear. Mikasa gulped.

"Um, hi, guys," she said gently, unsure of what to do. She had been so excited at the prospect of seeing Eren today. That washed away in an instant when she saw this boy sitting with him. They looked like pretty good friends from the way they spoke to each other so comfortably. That only made Mikasa feel more wary. Being a third wheel wasn't exactly going to make the day fun.

"Oh hey, Mikasa," Eren said in reply, his voice casual as he flicked through the pages of the book. Mikasa sat next to him, looking at the contents. There were hundreds of creases blemishing each page. That, combined with the font, that was far too small, made it pretty difficult to read. However, that wasn't too much of an issue because it was illustrated with large pictures. They were all in black and white and had faded out a little due to age, but Mikasa could still roughly make out what they were. Although, she kind of wish she couldn't after seeing them. As Eren flicked through the book, she saw the oddest things depicted; grotesque men who were 30 feet tall, concrete walls that towered as high as the clouds themselves, countless pictures of corpses and the injured, blood sweating from their throats and chest, bodies strapped and packaged in an odd and intricate military suit. Mikasa found that she couldn't keep her eyes off it, despite how horrifying it was.

"What is this?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Where did you get it? Ms. Ral will kill you if she sees us with this book!"

"No, she won't," the blonde haired boy spoke up, grinning slightly mischievously. "When you get down to it, Ms. Ral can be kind of lenient when it comes to books and reading..."

"Ah...did she give you permission?" Mikasa asked. The boy nodded. "Um, what's your name? I'm Mikasa."

"Armin. I'm a friend of Eren's," he smiled. "Also, I got the book from my parents. They're cryptologists. They study legends and stuff."

"That's really cool! That's way more better than what my parents do as a living," Mikasa declared with avidity, although she still didn't know what her parents did these days, as she'd never thought to ask. All she knew was that it probably wasn't cool. "Hey, why haven't I ever seen you here before? Is this your first day at Ms. Ral's?"

"Yeah, it is," Armin said. "But it's also going to be my last day, too. You see, I go to this school summer camp for kids right? But I couldn't go today because of some weird stuff that happened with the owner and the employees and all. So my parents just landed me here with Eren today so I have someone to look after me. It'll be open tomorrow though, so it's just for today."

"Oh...I see," Mikasa said gently. "How long have you eyes known each other?"

"Since, we were like six," Eren butted in, slinging an arm around Armin's shoulder casually. "We went to the same elementary school and stuff. We, like, grew up together."

"We're also going to the same middle school," Armin added. "Shinganshina Community Middle School."

"Oh, I'm going there too. That's cool, so we'll all know each other!" Mikasa said happily. "Isn't it supposed to be really like, strict and stuff? That's what my Mum told me."

"Yeah! I heard that the teachers are allowed to slap you if you're behaving badly," Eren whispered, eyes wide, voice excited.

"Seriously?"

"Yep! Apparently, there was this one teacher who broke this girl's leg and she wasn't even arrested or-" Eren started, but Armin quickly cut him off.

"Don't listen to him, Mikasa, he's talking crap," he sighed, a stern tone colouring his voice. He turned to Eren. "You heard that from Ymir, didn't you? You know that she's always lying about stuff like that."

"Why would she lie about something like that?"

"To mess with people? Like that time when she convinced Connie to shave his eyebrows," Armin said, lips twitching as he spoke, like he was resisting a smile.

"Yeah, that was funny as hell," Eren snickered. "But so mean. Connie's eyebrows never really recovered from that, did they?"

"Nope," Armin grinned. "Mikasa, you should see them. They really are something special."

"Yeah, if I ever see Connie when I'm with you, I'll point him out to you," Eren added, putting his free arm around Mikasa. Although she had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, she giggled warmly along with the two boys.

The three of them sat like that for a while, chatting and joking around, occasionally looking back at the book. Mikasa quickly learnt that Armin was nice. He was intelligent easy to talk to and said a lot of smart things that she didn't really understand, but was sure it made sense anyway. He was very close with Eren, too. Apparently the two had met because some local boys had bullied Armin pretty severely because his intellect and lack of physical aptitude. Then one day, Eren had been walking down the streets and happened upon the young boy and saw him sobbing at the feet of a group of delinquents. Then, like the lamest guardian angel ever, he'd immediately rushed to defend Armin, kicking and punching the culprits wildly. Not that it had worked or anything – his 'ass got handed to him', as Armin said. But it was the sentiment that mattered. Once the boys had cleared off, the two of them were both laying on the ground, covered from head to toe in gut-churning cuts and bruises. The two swore to get vengeance on the boys and sealed the deal with a high five. And from that ill-fated incident, a close friendship blossomed.

It was approaching one o' clock when Ms. Ral had interrupted the three kids. She waddled in, walking stick clacking loudly.

"It's unbearably hot outside," she stated. "Are you sure you kids would want to stay in all day? How about some ice cream to ease the heat? You all need to eat something nice and cold, or you'll catch a fever."

"Yes, please, Ms. Ral!" the trio chorused at the same time. Ms. Ral laughed fondly at their eager grins.

They all set off quickly quickly to a small outlet called the August Pie, a quaint little ice cream parlour situated a few roads away. The building itself was so pretty and old worldly. It looked like it had been plucked from a different time era, although Mikasa couldn't put her finger on which one exactly. It had been varnished in a creamy buttercup yellow and decorated with light pink flowers. Despite being a hot day, the parlour was relatively empty, with only a few customers sitting outside on the woven chairs. Next to the building was a reasonably big park with a set of brightly coloured climbing frames, swings and slides.

"It's mine and Eren's park," Armin pointed out to Mikasa, who was already staring at it. "This is the park we go to meet up with our friends."

"Huh? Oh, that's cool..." Mikasa mumbled. "Is that like Connie and the other girl you were talking about? Are there others?"

"Her name's Ymir, and yeah there's others. There's Jean and Krista and Sasha..."

"And Reiner and Bertl and Marco..." Eren joined in. "We only get to see them on weekends though because neither of our parents let us go to the park on our own. But theirs do so they're always meeting up without us. It's pretty annoying."

Mikasa nodded in understanding. Her parents used to let her roam around back home, but they hadn't since they'd starting living in Shinganshina. Although, Mikasa deemed it a reasonable restriction. After all, there wasn't really anything threatening back home, no seedy men hanging around the streets. The majority of the population there had been pensioners, and they were unlikely to do any damage. There were no drug dealers because they had no one to sell drugs to, no robbers because they had no one to rob and no sexual predators because they had no prey. Unless 'prey' constituted skinny haggard men whose flesh had been sullied by age, which it rarely did.

"It's not so bad not being able to walk about on our own though. Right, Eren?" Armin asked Eren. "We're the flotsam rejects, remember?"

"Hell yeah," Eren grinned. "I don't know what flotsam means, but hell yeah."

"Come now, kids, let's sit here," Ms. Ral guided them to some of the outside seats, interrupting their exchange. It was a good place to sit – they would be able to catch a lot of sun here. Dumping their bags next to them, the trio positioned themselves on the chairs, with Eren in the middle and Mikasa and Armin flanking his sides.

"What flavour do you want? Choose something under five dollars, please," Ms. Ral told them, tapping her foot as she spoke.

Mikasa peered at the menu and was immediately horrified; over 100 different available ice cream flavours and 50 different cone flavours. Some of the flavours available were pretty generic; mint, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry – the usual. Some flavours had names Mikasa hadn't even heard of and some were flavours that seemed entirely unappealing. Like egg nog flavour. What the hell? Horse radish? Disgusting. There was also a list of topping with a very convoluted price scheme. How would she ever know what to get?

"Um, vanilla, please," Armin said.

"One vanilla. What about you, Mikasa?" Mikasa thought and scanned over the menu again. A name, printed in small font caught her eye.

"Can I have liquorice flavour, please?" Mikasa asked. Eren and Armin stared at her, before giggling.

"Liquorice, are you even for real?" Eren sniggered. "You must be an old man trapped in a young girl's body. Only old people like liquorice."

"Both of you; hush. One vanilla and one liquorice coming right up. Eren, what do you want?" Ms. Ral asked.

"Death by chocolate," Eren said immediately. "Get it in super size, please." He contorted his face awkwardly in what was probably meant to be a puppy face.

"Idiot boy," Ms. Ral laughed, slapping his grinning cheek gently. "Super size is absolutely huge. It's meant for fat people with stomachs too big, not eleven year old boys. Do you honestly think you'll be able to eat all of it?"

"Obviously!"

"Well, if you're sure..." Ms. Ral got out her wallet. "I'll buy it for you. But if you don't eat all of it, you're going to have to wash the dishes after dinner today. Understood?"

Eren saluted.

"Sir, yes sir!" he said in a mock military voice.

Ms. Ral chucked heartily one more time before ruffling his hair. "You two need to look out for this boy, okay? He's trouble." She walked jerkily over to the counter, waiting at the small cue that had accumulated whilst they'd been talking. Armin shook his head.

"There's no way you're going to be able to eat all of that ice cream, Eren," Armin hissed, picking up the menu and pointing at it. "Look here; it says that the extra large ice cream weighs 5 lbs. No one can do that. No one can eat five pounds worth of ice cream in one go. At least, not without a split stomach. Like, not even Sasha is on that level."

"Sasha?" Mikasa asked, confused. "Who's that?"

"One of our friends. Like Connie. She's really nice, but a total pig," Armin said. Eren nodded, a serious look in his eye.

"One time she ate a whole apple pie. And not just any apple pie. A freaking big ass pie that's thicker than my waist," Eren said with gusto.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that big," Armin said, but he was chuckling too. "It was like, adult-sized. Anyway, you still won't be able to eat 5lbs of ice cream."

"Yeah, we'll see," Eren retorted. "10 dollars I'll be able to eat it all."

"You don't have ten dollars."

"I'll get ten dollars."

"You still owe me ten dollars from two weeks ago."

"I'll get that too."

"Hey," Mikasa recalled yesterday's events suddenly. "Do you remember yesterday when you ate all of the toffee popcorn? I didn't even get a single piece. You haven't paid me back like you promised you would."

"Um..."

"I told you I wouldn't forget."

"I didn't think you would."

"Sure."

Just as Mikasa and Armin were getting started, Eren was mercifully saved by Ms. Ral, who had chosen that exact moment to show up with their ice cream.

The ice cream looked really pretty, prettier than any ice cream she'd ever seen before. Already she could tell why Ms. Ral had brought them here rather than just dishing out the cash for shop brought ice cream. It had been placed in a tall and intricately designed glass, which was cut into a chaplet of pretty bright hues. Coloured sugar had been sprinkled delicately around the rim of the glass, and various cherries, wafers and whipped cream had been arranged artistically in a pattern. A miniature umbrella stuck in the centre of the ice cream. Mikasa observed with surprise that her ice cream glistened a light grey; it looked odd, but delicious. She almost didn't want to taste it for the fear of besmirching its rich aesthetic. As she thought this, Eren leaned in towards her, looking directly at her ice cream.

"God, that looks rank," he laughed. Mikasa laughed too, in spite of herself. Picking up the spoon, which was very fanciful, much like the rest of the parlour, she dug into the frosty surface of the ice ream, hearing a quiet crunch as the spoon dug into the surface. She scooped some up and put the mushy grey substance in her mouth. It just tasted like liquorice, although there was an odd smoky after-taste that stuck around in her throat. She liked it. Turning around, she noticed Eren and Armin were staring at her like she was was devouring a newborn child.

"What?" she asked, feigning confusion. The two shook their heads, getting back to their ice cream.

"How have you not thrown up yet?" Eren mumbled to himself before spooning ice cream into his mouth. Mikasa shrugged.

An hour or so passed away quickly. The trio bickered constantly, mainly complaining about the numerous and ever growing debts that Eren had yet to pay back. Ms. Ral had also conveniently remembered that Eren also owed her a few things too.

"You never gave me back that money, now did you Eren? When you told me you needed to pay back Armin," Ms. Ral prodded him on the shoulder.

"Money, um? Sorry, I don't really know what you're talking about..." Eren protested weakly.

"Lies!" Mikasa laughed. Listening to this banter made her feel as though the four of them were part of a family or something. It was a nice feeling. And it turned out that, no, Eren couldn't eat the whole ice cream at all. He only managed to get through half of it before claiming he had a stomach ache and therefore couldn't finish, and that if he hadn't been struck by this suspiciously convenient stomach ache, he'd be able to finish the ice cream in a heart beat. Less! After finishing up and taking time to let the ice cream settle in their tummies, Ms. Ral told the trio that they could play in the park next door.

"I'll join you in a second after I've had a sit down," she assured them. "Don't wonder out too far! Stay in the park!"

"We will," Armin called, waving at her. The three strolled down to the park with a new swagger to their step, giddy at being able to play with one and other without constantly being under the watchful eye of an apprehensive adult.

"This is amazing!" Eren exclaimed. "This is the first time I've been out on my own!"

"Same. I feel so grown up," Armin giggled. "All we need is a shady businessmen suit and some shades, then we'll be true adults."

They stopped at the sectioned off area in the park, the one which held all the convoluted slides and climbing frames. The gate door to it looked pretty beaten up, with the black paint that coated it clotted and pealing off in strips. Probably due to the infinite torrent of tireless kids wearing away at it, continuously slamming it open and shut, limping over it, hopping over it, flicking at it...

Mikasa flung it open carelessly and entered the area, dumping her bags near the side before walking towards the swings. She only took a few steps before she noticed that Eren and Armin had halted and were no longer walking. She looked towards them and was surprised to see their faces. Armin's face was anxious, eyebrows pulled upwards and bitten lips with apparent disquiet.

Eren's face was set into an incensed grimace. Mikasa knew that look well enough; it was the look he was always wearing on his face approximately two minutes before he gets into a violent scrimmage with another kid.

"Oh no," Armin whispered.

"What is it, Armin?" Mikasa asked. The smaller boy's shoulders fell forward.

"Jean." Mikasa frowned.

"Jean? Who's is Jean?"

Armin pointed to the climbing frame in the far corner. Mikasa noticed that there was a bunch of kids hanging around there, all of which were now staring at the trio. Some of them were waving at the three, some were glancing with a mixture of interest and pep. Some were staring anxiously, their expression a mirror of Armin's.

"He's Eren's arch enemy, or whatever. The two don't get along. Whenever Jean and Eren are involved in a situation, there's always chaos," Armin sighed. "Trust me, them to being together is never a good idea."

"Which one is Jean?" she asked, glancing around at the kids. "Why don't we just stay away from him?"

"That's harder than you'd think. Jean hangs around with Marco, Sasha, Connie and the likes, who are all our friends. We can't avoid Jean without avoiding our friends."

"I see..."

Mikasa looked towards the group again. One of the boys was eyeing the trio with a disrelish look in his eye. From how he appeared to be cast this look primarily at Eren, Mikasa inferred that that was probably Jean.

He looked pretty odd. His hair was chopped and dyed into an undercut. He had a thin face and thick eyebrows, furrowed into a frown. Mikasa looked back towards Eren, who had sat down at a garish yellow roundabout and was now pointedly staring at everything and anything that wasn't Jean. Armin jogged towards him and placed a palm on his shoulder, whispering to him soothingly. Mikasa couldn't quite hear the exchange, but Eren did seem visibly more mellow after just a few words of comfort.

Mikasa looked back towards the group sitting by the table next to the climbing frame. She earnestly wanted to just sit with Eren and Armin and talk with them like before, but they looked deep in what was probably a private conversation. They wouldn't berate her if she interrupted them but she doubted they would appreciate her companionship all the same. She walked up to where Eren and Armin's friends were sitting, gradually feeling uneasy with each step as she realised they'd all stopped talking and were now staring at her. She stopped in front of them, squaring her shoulders and thrusting her chest forward, an attempt to imitate bravery.

"Hello, um, can I hang out with you guys for a bit?" she asked the boy who was probably Jean politely. He didn't reply at first. He just stared at her like she was speaking gobbledegook and blinked like a fool. Then, slowly, a light flush coloured his otherwise pale cheeks.

"Um, yeah, sure. Sure. Why not?" he finally managed to stutter out nervously, eyes still glued to her.

She began to walk over to sit with the pack of girls and boys near Jean, who had listened to their exchange and were now signalling for her to come and join them. One of the girls, a brunette with a cute smile, waved at her. She took her first step before feeling a hand grabbed hold of her arm, its grip damp with sweat. Mikasa turned to look, seeing Jean still staring at her with an almost enamoured look in his eye.

"Hey," he mumbled. "I just wanted to say, you have really pretty hair. Like, _really_ pretty. Um, yeah." He then proceeded to give her what was possibly the most awkward smile she'd ever seen. Mikasa blinked, hesitating a little.

"Thanks," she replied, surprised by his sudden advancement.

"I'm Jean by the way."

"I know," she responded, a little more curt than she'd meant to. She tugged her arm out of his drenched palm and continued towards the table.

"Hi," she said quietly, painfully aware of how inept she probably sounded.. "Are you Eren and Armin's friends? I'm Mikasa. I'm their friend too. Um, who are you guys?" She heard someone snigger at her words. Her self-confidence dropped pitifully.

"I'm Sasha," the brunette girl who had been smiling at her previously spoke, bringing Mikasa's attention over to her. She really was so cute, with dimpled chubby cheeks and warm brown eyes that seemed to glow with friendliness. She thrust her hand out for Mikasa to shake. The movement felt so formal that Mikasa wanted to laugh. She probably would have done if she hadn't been afraid of offending this Sasha. "How are you. I haven't seen you around before. Are you new? Also, I like your hair."

"Hey now, don't slobber on her, Sasha," Jean scolded her, joining the group at the table.

"Don't hate just because you embarrassed yourself, Casanova."

"Shut up, you pig."

"Never, you baboon monkey."

With Jean's arrival, the group lapsed back into light conversation. Mikasa primarily spoke with Sasha, who seemed delighted with her despite not having known her for more than a few minutes. But that was okay because Mikasa found herself liking Sasha back; the girl was refreshingly easy-going and earnest in a manner that was so uncommon, a trait hard to find in most people. Sasha's blithe nature made her feel comfortable, despite her being in a group of people who were strangers to her. The first thing she found out about Sasha was that she was quite the joker and often pulled terrible pranks with with partner-in-crime and best friend, Connie. _That _Connie that Eren and Armin had been talking about earlier.

Mikasa looked at his eyebrows. Crap. They really were thin. Thin to the point where look at them made her feel kind of distressed. She looked away before Connie noticed she was staring at the excrescence that was his eyebrows and went back to talking to Sasha.

The second thing Mikasa found out the girl was her partiality to food. Throughout their conversation, Sasha would keep dishing into her bag and bringing out punnets of fruit and bread to eat, although she always, without fail, made sure to offer everyone else some before eating. She told Mikasa with ardour that she wanted to become a food critic when she grew up so she could get paid for eating food.

"But as a part time job, I'm going to become a stand-up comedian with Connie!" she declared.

"Damn straight," Connie raised his palm to Sasha and the two did an animated high five routine.

"_Idiots_," another girl hissed, rolling her eyes at the two. It was the same girl who had laughed when Mikasa introduced herself.

"Ymir," a short blonde girl chastised her. "Stop it, seriously."

"What? I'm just joking," Ymir shot the smaller girl a wolfish grin, who was looking unimpressed.

"You don't have to be so callous with your jokes, you know..."

"Are you still offended after what I said before?"

"No..."

"Are you sure? Is wittle Krista's feeling hurt? Do you need me to kiss you better?"

"You know, Ymir, if you could stop flirting with Krista for just one second," Jean disrupted the two girls. "I think that'd be really fucking great."

"Better flirt with a goddess than cream myself over someone's hair."

"Stop fighting you two," Krista sighed. "You're making a bad impression of us all on Mikasa." Ymir opened her mouth as if to protest, but then quietened quickly.

"So, Mikasa!" Connie exclaimed, picking the conversation right up again. "How did you meet Eren and Armin?"

"Oh, Eren is looked after by the same nanny as me," Mikasa said. "You see, our parents aren't around very often because they have busy jobs so we have to be looked after by Ms. Ral. It's just until we get to middle school though," she added quickly, hoping not to sound lame. "After that, Mum is going to teach me about responsibility and stuff. And then I'll be able to go places on my own! I can't wait for it."

"Cool. Actually, speaking of middlesc-" Connie halted in mid-speech, eyes wide. Sasha looked at him before whirling around to peer behind her.

"Here comes trouble," she muttered, shaking her head uneasily.

Mikasa looked around. Eren and Armin were approaching, Armin clutching a book timidly, Eren staring at the ground, eyes narrowed. Did Eren intend to fight Jean? It didn't look like it. He was still pointedly looking everywhere except at the corner of the table Jean was sitting at. His eyes met Mikasa's. She smiled at him. He managed a tight one back, although it looked more like a wince than a genuine smile. He sat next to her, Armin joining at his side. Mikasa noticed out of the corner of her eye that Jean was staring at Eren in the most unpleasant way. With some prodding from Sasha and Connie, everyone eased back into uneasy conversation. To any bystanders, the underlying tension in the friends would have been invisible, inconspicuous. But to anyone who knew Eren and Jean, it was unbearably perceptible.

At first, things were fine though. Sasha and Connie were making possibly the most horrifyingly offensive dead baby jokes Mikasa ever had the misfortune to hear and Ms. Ral had caught up, shuffling into the park and waving at her and Armin, who was making small talk with Eren.

"What're you going to do when you go home today?" Armin asked. "Are you going to finish drawing that picture like you said?"

"Nah. Gonna go home and watch the Matrix," Eren said, stretching out his limbs. "Best film ever. You agree with me, right Armin?"

"I do, but you watch it for the wrong reasons," Armin said. "You only watch for the action. I watch it for the existentialistic themes."

"And cause I like Trinity."

"You like Trinity?" Mikasa repeated.

"Huh? Yeah, sure I do. She's a total boss, so good at fighting! And so strong too," Eren said wistfully. "I wanna become just as strong as her one day." Jean chortled at that. Eren's gaze slowly, dangerously, shifted towards Jean, who was opening smirking at his comment.

"Do you, uh, have something to add, Jean?" Eren said stiffly, his voice dangerously quiet, the peace before a storm.

"Guys, don't get into anoth-" Krista started before Ymir cut her off abruptly, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Don't intervene, Krista," Ymir whispered, keeping her voice low. "Stuff like this is comedic cold to me."

"I don't have anything to add, Eren!" Jean retorted smugly. "Just keep talking. It's funny as hell." Eren's eyes narrowed.

"What the fuck is your problem, Jean?" he snarled. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Eren, stop," Armin hissed to no avail. Eren had worked himself up into a unbreakable temper in a manner of minutes. He ignored Armin completely.

"Admiring someone like Trinity? Neo is way cooler! Even Morpheus is way cooler! Do you have any standards? And have you deluded yourself into thinking you'll ever be as strong as her? My sides!"

"Insult Trinity one more time," Eren's voice lowered into that menacingly serene tone. "I fucking dare you."

"She's not hot."

Mikasa couldn't exactly remember what happened after that. Her memory blanked out a little, but she did recall Eren pouncing at Jean, Mean Girls style. She did recall Ms. Ral having to drag Eren off of Jean – the woman could be surprisingly strong when the situation called for it. After that, Ms. Ral grabbed his wrist angrily and marched off, Mikasa and Armin following behind meekly. Eren was a scary site. His hair that was messy at the best of times, but now it was a downright disaster, making him look like some kind of degenerate. It didn't help that blood was pouring out of his nose, smeared on his cheeks and neck, making him look more grisly than ever before.

"Stop pushing on my wrist so hard," Eren complained. "I think he broke my it! I'll have to got to hospital. Also, I think he cracked my skull open, my head is aching so hard!"

"Nonsense!" Ms. Ral snapped at him angrily.

"Ms. Ral, look at his nose! What if Eren dies of blood loss!" Mikasa added, concerned.

"He isn't going to die," Armin whispered to her. "It isn't actually that much blood. It looks like far more than it actually is..." Mikasa still felt worried though.

The whole walk back to Ms. Ral's house was bitter. You could practically feel the anger exuding off off Ms. Ral. She dug her key into the lock angrily before wrenching the door open and demanding that the three of them sit upstairs in the guest room until their parents arrived. They obliged, not even Eren being able to work up defiance.

"This is a load of crap," Eren sighed, sitting on the mattress against the far left corner of the wall. "He antagonised me on purpose. Isn't it, Mikasa?" Mikasa shrugged.

"You shouldn't rise to the bait, Eren," Armin murmured. "He did it on purpose to piss you off. How many times do I need to say this for you to understand?" Eren shrugged. The trio each withdrew themselves, sinking into their own thoughts, dreading the inevitable arrival of their parents.

Armin's mother arrived first, around half an hour later and were shocked to hear what had happened.

"You're getting grounded for a week," Ms. Arlert proclaimed, hands on hips.

"But, Mu-" Armin was cut off before he could object

"No ifs and no buts! I'm ashamed of you!" she marched out of Ms. Ral's house, Armin trailing behind her in shame.

That left just her and Eren then. His nose was still bleeding and every now and then, he'd sniff pathetically. Mikasa felt a random surge of pity for him.

"Is your nose okay?" she asked him, sidling up nearer to him so their shoulders were touching.

"Yeah, I think so," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Still kind of hurts."

"Do you reckon Jean broke it? Can I feel it?"

"Uh, sure? Please don't press hard."

She tenderly placed her index finger on his, ensuring that there was no pressure on it at all. Eren closed his eyes peacefully and sighed as she felt the bridge of it. She could tell that it was swollen slightly by the fight and bent out of shape too.

"Eren, I think it's broken. Does it hurt when you try and breathe out through it?"

"Um, kind of? Well, I can't really breathe out of it anyway. It feels like it's blocked." Mikasa was perturbed at his words. She didn't know all that much on nose breaking, but she knew enough to understand that was a bad sign.

"Tell your parents when they get here so they can sort it out," she said. "On the bright side, you look like a total badass."

"Yeah?" he grinned. "You think the girls at school are gonna love it?"

"Definitely," she nodded. "You'll have them wrapped around your finger. They'll be begging to get some of that Jaeger lovin'."

"Shut up," he laughed. Mikasa smiled at him. "What about you? You like badasses?" He pouted his lips mockingly.

"You shut up," she giggled, punching him gently on the shoulder.

Her parents only arrived an hour later and were gravely disappointed to find out what had happened. Mikasa only gave Eren a quick wave as a farewell before she rushed downstairs to see her parents. Her father didn't seem particularly angry, only kind of crestfallen that his daughter had been involved in a fight. Her mother was a different story. The moment she was out of earshot from Ms. Ral, she lectured on to Mikasa.

"Why didn't you just walk away when you knew they were going to fight?" she snarled as Mikasa entered the car.

"It happened too suddenly! Also, Eren is my friend. I can't just leave him." That answer clearly wasn't good enough. Her mother glared at her once more before turning to her father.

"Is that boy a bad influence on her, do you think?" she asked him sternly.

"No, he's not!" Mikasa rushed quickly to Eren's defence. "It wasn't his fault! One of the boys were being deliberately rude to him to rile up his temper." Her mum sighed.

"Quiet you!"

"Hey," Mikasa's father placed a hand on her mother's shoulder. "If she's telling the truth, then it's not his fault he got into a fight. You're darn tooting I would have done the same if someone were acting towards me at his age. He's only eleven, give him a little leeway."

"I still have my concerns," she mumbled, but dropped the conversation, thankfully.

That night, Mikasa did the same thing she did every night. She showered, put on her pyjamas and brushed her teeth. She wrote in her diary about her day, making sure to put special detail into the fight and how roughed up Eren looked. She closed her book and climbed into the sheets. But something was different about that night. She had felt it a little yesterday but now the feeling was incredibly potent, saturating her entire being. She thought about Armin and Jean and Sasha, about how she was making friends. She thought about how this would make going to middle school considerably easier. But most of all she thought about Eren. There was a squeezing in her heart and she didn't tell it to quit.

**h-hah...**


End file.
